


Tea with Ben

by Geonn



Category: Sanctuary (TV), Warehouse 13
Genre: Crossover, Crossover Pairings, F/F, Fluff, Picnics, Romantic Friendship, Tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-13
Updated: 2012-03-13
Packaged: 2017-11-01 22:14:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/361858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geonn/pseuds/Geonn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Helen Magnus takes tea with an old friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tea with Ben

She didn't intend to make James jealous with her deception; telling a bit of the truth was simply the easiest way to lie. She prepared the tea in a small picnic basket, which was such an uncanny sight in the Sanctuary that James checked it for weapons. Helen withstood his search, smiling when he looked at the jar of jam and raised an eyebrow. "Your friend... Ben, was it?... has fine tastes."

"Yes." She closed the basket and slid it over her wrist, crossing her arm over her stomach so the basket dangled in front of her. "Now if the inquisition is over, monsignor, I'll bid you a good evening."

James narrowed his eyes, showing that he wasn't fooled by her nonchalance. She smiled beatifically back at him. She would give nothing away, and he knew it. 

"Fine." He stepped away and ducked his chin to hide his slight smile. "Have your secrets."

"I keep them only because I know you crave mysteries, James." She pecked him on the cheek and slipped out the door before he could begin questioning her again. The secret wasn't exactly hers to give; it was required to protect the friend she was meeting. She hailed a carriage and gave the driver an address near her destination but not close enough that James could deduce her destination. There were countless cafes and shops nearby where she could have a picnic. He could spend weeks searching them and never once consider looking up to find Ben staring down at him.

Ben was forty years old and extremely tall, befitting his name. Helen could see him awaiting her arrival as they rode through the streets of London, drawing ever nearer to the false destination. She thanked the driver when he dropped her off and she paid him, waiting until the sound of his horse's hooves faded before she began walking.

"Hullo, Ben," she whispered as she approached the tower. One of Big Ben's four faces shone down at her through the darkness. 

Access to the tower was extremely restricted, but Helen Magnus had her means. She waited until the street was quiet before she exchanged the dark and foggy night for the claustrophobic confines of the maintenance corridor. She made sure the entrance was secure, moved the basket higher onto her arm, and moved confidently through the near-total darkness to the stairs. She kept one hand on the railing as she climbed, her footsteps echoing off the immense inner walls as her thighs burned at the workout.

Her face was beaded with sweat when she finally reached the top, and her legs felt like uncooked noodles. She removed a monogrammed handkerchief from her purse and touched it to her upper lip and over her eyebrows before she continued on. The door to her destination opened suddenly, and a lithe woman was silhouetted against the light from a lantern hung within. Her hair was up in a tangle, and she wore trousers that clung to her curves.

"I thought you would never get here."

Helen sighed. "Not all of us have the luxury of resting on our laurels eleven months out of the year."

"Restful!" H.G. Wells scoffed. "You obviously don't understand the first thing about bronzing."

Helen joined H.G. in the doorway. "I don't. Hello, luv." She touched the side of H.G.'s neck and leaned in, letting their lips brush against each other thrice - once closed, once opened, and then lingering while closed - before she stepped into their private nook. 

It was a narrow space, with the large gears that moved the clock hands stretching horizontally above them. The sound of time being measured filled the air, seconds of their long lives ticking away. Each second that passed was as significant as a grain of sand being removed from a beach, and yet as precious as diamonds. H.G. had already set up a white blanket in the middle of the space with pillows along the outside edges. 

H.G. closed the door so their light wouldn't attract the attention of maintenance men and joined Helen as she knelt on the sheet. "What have you brought us this time?"

"All of your favorites. Open the window while I serve, please."

"Of course." H.G. moved to the curved base of the clock face. She skillfully removed two large panels of glass and set them carefully aside. The wind was calm tonight, and Helen looked up to marvel at the great city stretching out in front of them. H.G. climbed down and crossed her legs as she examined the spread. "Mm, blackcurrant jam. You spoil me."

"You're well worth it." She poured them each a cup of tea while H.G. spread the jam. She traded H.G. the cup for a biscuit, and rearranged her skirts around her legs as she turned to look outside. The air was clear enough to see for miles. 

"I know my punishment is my own doing, and that is partially why your friend agreed to your terms," H.G. said softly. "But had you not come along, I would be stuck there endlessly. I'd lose my mind before long. I owe you much for that."

Helen looked at her. "These meetings are as much for my peace of mind as they are yours."

When Nikola told her of the bronzing process being used at his Warehouses, Helen was disgusted. When she learned a mind as incredible and precious as the great H.G. Wells had been locked away, she demanded a compromise. Nikola eventually agreed, and Helen Magnus had become H.G.'s guardian one month out of the year. It was April now. Last year had been March, the year before February. 

"Thank you, Helen. It is very nice to... have a spot of tea and breathe a little fresh air."

"I'm sure." As far as Helen was concerned, H.G.'s only crime was being unclear on her feelings. And how could she be clear? She was hurt, angry, depressed... losing a child... it would drive anyone to madness. She brought H.G.'s hand to her lips and kissed the knuckles, then pressed the backs of H.G.'s fingers to her cheek. "How's the jam?"

H.G. smiled. "Delicious. A wonderful choice, dear."

Helen cleared her throat and looked out at the city again. Fog swirled through the opening H.G. had made in the glass, making it look as if it was an illusion or part of a dream.

"You've twenty-nine more days left of your current reprieve. How do you wish to spend it?"

H.G. took a bite of her biscuit, the jam smearing on her upper lip until she swept it away with her tongue. She lifted her chin and leaned back, propped up by her left arm as she narrowed her gaze at the city beyond the clock. 

"I'm not going to answer that question right now."

Helen smiled. "Fair enough. Plenty of time to think about it." She covered H.G.'s hand with her own and rubbed the knuckles. 

They sat together, joined at the hands, and enjoyed their tea as H.G. pondered ways to fill her latest four weeks of freedom. Helen wasn't going to rush her to a decision; they had the entire night to decide what to do tomorrow. And if H.G. decided she just wanted to sleep, well... Helen had a bed. She blushed at the thought and refilled her cup.

Freedom was whatever they made of it, and neither of them was one to squander opportunities.


End file.
